Family Life
by Boducky
Summary: This is probably going to end up being a collection of one-shots about how Ironhide fits in to life with Lennox and his family. Random silliness.
1. Chapter 1

**FAMILY LIFE**

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any way, shape or form, and make no profit from these little stories.

Author's note: Not sure how long this story will go on, it's basically just going to be a collection of little one-shots about whatever weird ideas come to mind.

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**Chapter 1 - Practicality**

_Man, whatever happened to Sundays being a day of rest?_ Lennox thought miserably as he loaded the rest of the groceries into the back of the truck. Two hours, _two hours_, of being bumped into by fellow shoppers, having to wait patiently while some indecisive old couple block an entire aisle and then stand there trying to figure out what they wanted. A kid had been throwing a tantrum over in the candy aisle, her piercing screams making have of the shoppers cringe… he would _never_ let his little girl act like that. And then there was the long wait in line… heck, it was so busy at the checkouts that it was hard to tell where the end of a line _actually_ was. And then the guy on the cell phone in front of him, talking _way_ to loudly and sharing _way_ too much information with his buddy, and everyone else within earshot, about this girl he had gotten together with the night before.

Who would have thought that the local supermarket would have been so busy and maddeningly frustrating at 1 pm on a Sunday? Thankfully, Annabelle had been a real little trooper, taking things in stride and keeping herself entertained with her stuffed bear. She did start to kick up a bit of a fuss when they were in line, but Sarah got her calmed down quite quickly.

William stretched his arms and back before opening the truck door and settling inside. Sarah had already strapped Annabelle into her car seat and had just strapped on her seatbelt. "You're sure that everything's secure back there?" she asked him. He just sighed and closed his eyes. _Not this again, not now,_ he begged silently.

"Of course, dear. All the light things are in the storage container in the back so they don't blow out, heavy things are strapped down. Unless this truck flips, nothing's going anywhere." Hopefully, that would be the end of this conversation.

"Alright, that's good," his wife nodded. Resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief, William put the truck in gear and started to make his way out of the parking lot. The silence only lasted for two minutes. "It was very nice of the army to let you use this truck," she started again, "but I don't know, Will. Don't you think it's time we got ourselves another vehicle?"

_And it starts… maybe I can act dumb. I'm good at that sometimes._ So he replied "Yeah, we _have _had your little Honda for quite a few years now. Maybe we should get something to replace it… another little zippy car?"

Sarah looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You know I meant replace the _truck_, Will. Well, it's not even our truck, is it? We would just let the army have it back and get something that _we_ want. Something more practical, and with more room for when we have more kids."

"Fine, that's a fair point," he conceded, "but for right now, it's just us three. When we have another baby, we can easily fit another car seat into the back. It's not like we're going to start having a whole brood right away. We have at least a few more years before we have to think about getting a mini-van."

"True, we don't have to worry _yet_. But what about the gas prices these days? It's getting more expensive just to fill up on gas, never mind how much more groceries and everything costs. You can't tell me it wouldn't be a lot cheaper, in the long run, to get a hybrid vehicle of some sort?"

_If only you knew,_ William thought. "Look, this truck really isn't as bad on gas as you think, honey. It's really the top of it's class for fuel efficiency."

"Fine, how much do you spend a week on gas?" she challenged him. Oh, god, he had to think on the spot.

"Look, I don't really pay attention. Honestly, I really haven't had to fill up often." Or at all, but there was no way of telling her that without spilling the beans. "When I'm on base, sometimes the other guys use this truck."

"So you really _don't_ have a clue how 'fuel efficient' this thing really is."

"Aw, come on," he complained, trying to diffuse the situation. "The truck is great. It's better than great, it's the best vehicle I've ever driven. Trust me, we'll never be able to buy something half as dependable." He gave the steering wheel a reassuring pat, hoping to convey the message that _he_ didn't share Sarah's misgivings about the vehicle. "Besides, you're not giving him a fair chance… you've _never_ liked trucks, honey."

Whoops, that little slip of the tongue had earned him a weird look with an arched eyebrow. "What do you mean 'him'? Have you picked out a name for 'him', too?" As she smirked at him, Will decided he wasn't going to dignify that with a response. "And, no, I don't like trucks, but we always had a _lot_ of problems with our truck when I was growing up. It was unreliable and impractical but my dad just refused to let it go. Now that I'm an adult, I don't want to have to fight with a vehicle that isn't suited to our lifestyle."

"Ahah! So you admit it," the man gloated. "You admit that you're biased. Racist, if you will!"

Now it was his wife's turn to roll her eyes. "Racist? Will, this is a _truck_ we're talking about. Really, you can be so _strange_ sometimes."

"Yes, yes this is a truck we're talking about. And you, ma'am, are a racist. This is vehicular racism, and I will not tolerate it. End of discussion!" he said with a grin. Hopefully, if he could not win the argument, at least he could distract her from it until they got home and could discuss things in private. Just a left turn at the stoplight, a right down a side street, and he'd be home free.

"Oh, really, Will," she said with a laugh. "I don't get why you're so defensive about this truck. Why don't you just marry it already?" Suddenly, the truck stopped much too sharply at the red light. "What was that?" she turned to him with her eyes wide.

"Sorry, my bad," he lied quickly. "What, you had me distracted! Talking about unholy unions between man and truck. Honestly, woman, have you no sense of decency?" he teased her.

"You have an unholy obsession with this truck. Honestly!" She turned to look back at Annabelle, making sure that the sudden stop hadn't scared the child. "Oh, no, she fell asleep. Now she'll be out for hours and up until late." Will grinned and peered in his rear view mirror, getting a glimpse of his precious girl.

"Well, at least one of my ladies trusts my truck." _Finally,_ he thought as he drove up to their house.

Sarah rolled her eyes again. "Fine, I won't get between a man and his truck."

"That's right. And I think you owe somebody an apology," Will stated as he parked in their driveway. As he started to unbuckle his seatbelt, his wife shot him an impish grin that he loved so much.

"Yes, you're absolutely right." She patted the dashboard affectionately, and then leaned forward and actually gave it a kiss. "I'm sorry, dear truck. I _completely_ respect the relationship you have with my husband."

"Hey, hey, hey. I meant me. And while I respect your newfound respect for him, that doesn't mean the two of you are allowed to start something behind my back. Or in front of my face for that matter." They continued their affectionate banter as Sarah unbuckled Annabelle from the car seat, and as they worked together to unload groceries and put them away.

"Oh," Sarah stated as she searched through the remaining bags. "Where's the flour?" Will returned her expectant gaze with a blank stare.

"Flour?" he asked dubiously. "We were supposed to get flour?"

"Yes. I'm making some desserts for Lisa's daughter's wedding shower. I'm sure I put flour on the list. Actually, I'm pretty sure I remember you putting it in the cart for me." She scanned the grocery receipt closely.

"Oh, right… I kept fighting with the damned bag," Will remembered. "Did we pay for it and leave it behind?" He started scanning in the pantry, on the floor and by the doorway.

"It's on the receipt, we paid for flour that we apparently don't have. Can you check to see if we left it in the truck? It's kind of important… the shower is on Wednesday, so I have to start baking tomorrow" she explained apologetically.

Lennox was heading out the door when he turned. "Who the heck has a wedding shower on a Wednesday?" His wife just responded with a shrug of her shoulders and an exasperated roll of her eyes. "Okay, so it's not just me… that is a kind of weird day to have it. Alright…" He lopped out the door. After checking the truck's cab, storage box, backseat, heck _under_ the seats, he concluded that there was definitely no flour to be found.

"No luck, honey," he reported as he made his way into the kitchen. "Here, I'll take the receipt and see if I can get the flour."

"Aww, you'd brave the horrors of the grocery store just for me?" she smiled as she handed him the slip of paper. Will just grinned in response and kissed her.

"I'll be back shortly. Will I get a reward for being such a brave and dutiful husband?" Sarah winked at him suggestively before turning to organise the rest of the groceries. With a skip in his step, he headed out the door and made his way to the truck. He opened the door, hoisted himself into the driver's seat and went to start the truck.

Click.

No humming of the motor, no whining noise of protest. He frowned and tried turning the key in the ignition again.

Click.

"Oh, come on," he groused. "This is like the silent treatment, isn't it? Fine, be like that. I'll just take the Honda." He reached to unbuckle his seatbelt and then realised, with a sinking feeling, that the little Honda was currently in the garage, and blocked in by the big, insulted, stubborn truck. "Look, I'm sorry. She didn't mean it, she's just _never_ liked trucks. Please don't do this."

There were a few moments of tense silence, followed by the rumble of the engine coming to life. And he hadn't even had to turn the key. "So, I'm to resign myself to being the victim of vehicular racism?" a wry voice drawled over the radio. Lennox relaxed as he backed the truck out of the driveway.

"I was kidding about that, I was trying to get her off the subject. I knew you'd get touchy about it, old man." A rumbling laugh vibrated through the steering wheel.

"Your wife dislikes a certain type of man-made vehicle. Fine, she's entitled to her preference. I don't take it personally because I'm _not_ a flawed, man-made vehicle. I'm vastly superior in every way." The human rolled his eyes once again.

"Yeah, 'Hide, 'cept I've never had the Honda get annoyed at me and refuse to start. Say what you will about our flawed vehicles, at least they don't give us attitude."

"Now, now," the Autobot admonished him teasingly. "Can't we all just get along? Your wife and I just made up nicely, why do you have to ruin that and start a fight?"

"Yeah, about that, pal. Don't get any ideas involving my wife. I saw that little moment you two had… I'm keeping my eyes on you." More amused laughter rumbled through the radio. "If you're feeling lonely, though, her sister drives a nice mini-van. Maybe I could arrange an introduction."

"Please," Ironhide scoffed. "don't tell me you think I'd actually be interested in a mini-van. I know there's not a lot of options for an Autobot on this planet, but I'm not _that_ desperate. Though if you know someone who drives a Ferrari Enzo…" the gruff voice trailed off musingly.

The human's eyes widened in shock. "What, that was a joke. You guys don't _seriously_ check out our vehicles, do you?"

"The red ones are particularly nice…"

"Oh, come on. You're messing with me now… aren't you?" he asked uncertainly.

"Hmm… how much sleep are you going to lose at night if I don't answer that question?"

Will scoffed. "Whatever, I don't need to know what you guys do in your spare time." They drove in silence for a few moments before a frightening thought occurred to him. "Hey, wait, what about when I leave you alone in the garage with our Honda. You don't try to… erm… uh…"

"Hmph, of course not. Honestly, you humans." Will let out an obvious sigh of relief. "The Honda's a nice enough gal, but I prefer someone with a bit less mileage on her. I mean, if you _did_ decide to replace her with a nice SUV, I wouldn't complain…"

"Not cool, 'Hide, that is _so_ not cool. I defended you back there, man. I had your back. Sarah doesn't know that you're a mechanical life-form who doesn't pollute the environment and doesn't have any maintenance fees, but if she knew that she had to worry about a pervy old machine molesting our family vehicle, she would _so_ make me get rid of you."

The truck stopped at a light and rumbled. "By Primus, I was kidding. We have no interest in molesting your Earth vehicles." Will tapped the steering wheel affectionately.

"Thanks for clearing that up, buddy." The drove for a few minutes in companionable silence. "Look, I don't want to replace you, 'Hide. You're a good friend." The truck rumbled appreciatively.

"Acknowledged, but don't worry about me getting offended. If you need a different vehicle, then that's that. Besides, there's no guarantee that I'll always be around when you need me to get groceries. And, frankly, I wouldn't be a very good family vehicle." Will chuckled. "But as long as I'm around, you can trust me to protect you, Sarah and little Annabelle with my life."

At that, they pulled up to the parking lot of the grocery store. _Woah, when did we get here?_ Will was very glad that he had let Ironhide take over the driving. "Yeah, I know. That's the main reason I don't want any other vehicle. I'll be back shortly, buddy." On that happy note, Will left his friend to wait while he braved the hectic grocery store once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**FAMILY LIFE**

Disclaimer: Once again, I must sadly declare that I do not own Transformers or the Autobots in any way, shape or form. *pout*

Author's Note: Aww, I'm glad people liked the last chapter. Here is more silliness. This takes place a couple of months after Chapter 1.

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Chapter 2 - Usefulness

The weather had been gloriously sunny the entire weekend. But, come Monday morning, the clouds had started to roll in, and big, fat drops of rain splattered on the truck's windshield. Lennox sighed as he turned on the windshield wipers. His weekend had _not_ been a relaxing one, and he sorely felt like he needed another day of rest. Oh, well, at least the weather was matching his mood. Going to work on a beautiful, sunny day would have seemed worse… he would have spent a good part of the day gazing outside and being jealous.

He let out a small groan as he tried to stretch out his back, feeling the aches and knots twinge painfully. "Alright, 'Hide, new plan. We're heading to the store, I'm gonna grab myself a pair of swimming trunks and a towel, and then we're playing hookie and going to the beach," the human half-joked. The truck rumbled peevishly in response.

"Why are you complaining, human? I did most of the heavy hauling, you just had to load me up. And _I_ didn't have half-dozen friends helping me with _my_ job." Will could hear the undertone of amusement in the gruff voice that came out over the radio. He swatted the steering wheel in response.

"Yeah, well, we humans aren't quite as strong as you gigantic, alien robots are. But, if it was too much for you to handle, old man, you coulda just said something. I woulda been able to find an excuse to take it easy on you." The truck snorted in response. "'Sorry, Cousin Ben, I'd love to help you move, but you see, this truck belongs to the army. I'm not authorized to use it for things like this.' Something like that. I could have even thrown in how it's kinda finicky. Refuses to start, radio is wonky…"

"Hey, I may not have a great taste in music, but I'll be slagged before I let anyone corrupt my audio systems by playing fraggin' Shania Twain!"

Will grinned evilly. He'd finally found a chink in the old Autobot's armour. "Whose bed have your boots been under?" he belted out, off-key, with a terrible twang. "And whose heart did you steal I wonder?"

"Ugh… enough of that or I'll turn around and go home. Wait, that threat won't work, will it?" the truck mused.

"That don't impress me much!" Will bopped his head, getting his groove on behind the steering wheel. "So you got the looks but have you got the touch? Oooh, yeah!" Messing with the old man was just too fun, sometimes.

"Seriously, I will think of something evil to do to you that won't get me in trouble with Prime. I could probably plead insanity, tell the court I snapped under the pressure of continued auditory torture. No jury in the world would convict me."

"Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free-yeah, to feel the way I feel! Man! I feel like a… uh, wait a sec, no," the human trailed off sheepishly.

"Nope," the truck chuckled. "That one you can finish. How do you feel, Will?" he teased.

"Shh, enough yapping. I'm driving here, you're distracting me." He felt the steering wheel rumble as the truck laughed at him. "Hey, how do you even know the words to that song?"

"I think the question here is how do _you_ know the words, and why were you singing them so enthusiastically?" the truck asked evilly. "I think I've just found the perfect blackmail… promise me no more Shania Twain and I'll promise you that I won't let slip how you were belting out a song about getting in touch with your feminine side."

Will rolled his eyes. "Take it easy, old man. I'm done messing with you. No more Shania, I promise." He sat quietly for a few moments, reflecting on how much he enjoyed his morning drive to work, how fun it was to start the day just hanging out with a friend. "Seriously, though, thanks a bunch for your help this weekend. You didn't have to, you know. I know it probably wasn't a great time for you."

"Eh," the truck said dismissively. "I was just joking earlier, I really didn't have a problem with helping out. Things have been quiet the past little bit. I needed to do _something_, I hate just sittin' around waitin' to be useful. Besides, I think the wife is warming up to me. She didn't say a word about replacing me." Will chuckled as they pulled up to the oversized hangar the Autobots called home.

"You'll win her over, yet, old man. However, she _does_ really like Shania Twain. You know, you kinda worry her when you do stuff like that, shutting off the music," Lennox explained. The truck engine shut off, and Will stepped out of the cab. "She's going to start thinking you're possessed." The truck just rumbled in response, and waited for the human to step back before transforming into his Autobot form.

"Possessed, hmm…" Ratchet mused as he walked by carrying an armful of supplies. "That would explain a lot about you. Maybe we need to do an in-depth check up, see if it's something we can't fix."

"Eh, do a check-up on _these_," the old warrior groused, firing up his cannons. The medic just chuckled and continued on with his business. Lennox shook his head and made his way to the locker room to get changed.

"By the way," Ratchet called over his shoulder, "Prime just comm'd me and told me to say 'Welcome back,' for him." Ironhide looked around the hangar, but didn't see his leader anywhere.

"Okay, he couldn't have seen me, so how in the Pit does he know…"

Ironhide turned at the sound of heavy footsteps. Optimus Prime had been outside, and was just heading into the hangar. "No, I didn't see you," he admitted, "but I heard the sound of cannons coming online, and came to the obvious conclusion that you must be here somewhere." Prime's faceplates quirked in amusement. "It is good to have you back, old friend."

The old mech tilted his head. "Something happen while I was gone? Or are you getting sentimental on me?" Optimus just grinned and shook his head.

"We survived without you for a few days. Frankly, it was a bit odd getting used to how… quiet… things were around here. So, how was your 'weekend'?" Prime tilted his head. He was genuinely curious to see how his weapons specialist was getting along with the human family.

"Eh, resting is overrated," Ironhide said with a shrug and a wave of his hand. Then he did something Prime had never seen before… the old, battle-hardened mech twitched in discomfort.

Prime arched an eyebrow. "Is everything alright, old friend?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine," he replied unconvincingly as he twitched again. Unfortunately, Ratchet had chosen to reappear at that exact moment.

"Watch out, he's possessed," he stated in a dead-pan voice. Prime just looked at the medic in confusion. "Alright, in all seriousness, I think a check up is in order for our twitchy friend, here."

"Agreed," Prime intoned seriously.

"Eh, don't worry, it's nothing serious," Ironhide shrugged. "It should go away."

Ratchet nodded. "Yes, it will if I have anything to say about it. What if it's contagious?" Prime and Ironhide both knew, from long experience, that the medic was already going through a mental checklist of all the possible diseases and maladies that could be affecting the twitching Autobot.

Ironhide waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, Ratch. Nobody's going to get sick. Look, I was out with Lennox and his family… it was a long car ride and Sarah gave their daughter some sustenance on the way. Some sort of human snack designed specifically for younglings."

Ratchet's eyes widened in horror. "You let her _consume food_ in your cab?" Ironhide shrugged. "Well, it is a medical fact that young humans _do_ need to consume small quantities of food on a regular basis… I'm just surprised that you allowed it."

"Yeah, well, young humans don't deal with hunger very well. They get very noisy, and start leaking various fluids from their eyes and nose," the black mech explained. "Besides, I wasn't about to let her suffer. I just wish her snack hadn't been so… crumbly." He twitched again in annoyance.

Prime chuckled deeply. "An honourable sentiment, old friend. I'm sure Captain Lennox is grateful for your cooperation."

"Yeah, and he probably has no idea how _itchy_ crumbs are. Ugh," he shook his torso, trying to relieve the uncomfortable feeling. Ratchet chuckled and patted his old friend's shoulder.

"Come on, we'll get you to the medical hangar and get those crumbs removed. Should be an easy fix… a lot easier than some of the other patch-jobs I've had to do on you." Prime looked on as the two comrades made their way towards the medical hangar, and grinned as Ironhide muttered a gruff 'Thank you' to the medic.

_Very interesting,_ the Prime thought to himself. _And very encouraging that at least some Autobots are willing to try to integrate themselves in everyday human life. And very amazing that the little human Annabelle seems to have Ironhide… what is the human expression? 'Wrapped around her little finger.'_

He grinned to himself again, and made a mental note to see if he could find a way to tactfully request that humans not consume food or beverages while riding in the Autobots. However, he felt that Ironhide would always be willing to make an exception wherever a certain, tiny human was concerned…

* * *

Author's other note: Ya know, I was sitting in my car one day eating a cupcake, and as I brushed the crumbs off of my seat, I thought to myself, "Aww, I broke the 'no-eating' rule in my own car. Stupid crumbs getting everywhere. Hm… I bet that, if my car were an Autobot, this would be _really_ uncomfortable." PLOT BUNNIES!

Call me crazy, but I _love_ writing the teasing banter between Lennox and Ironhide. I don't know if you guys enjoy reading it as much, I've just always pictured the two of them as buddies who like busting each other's chops.

And all Shania Twain bashing _is_ intentional. I make no apologies! Muahahahahaha!


	3. Chapter 3

**FAMILY LIFE**

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or the Autobots in any way, shape or form. Boo-urns.

Author's note: Plot bunnies are running rampant and multiplying. I don't think there'll be much banter in this chapter, I'm trying to go for a different tone, here.

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Chapter 3 - Disturbance

Sarah Lennox sat up in her bed with a gasp, and for a moment was disoriented and afraid. Her eyes straining in the darkness, she tilted her head and listened intently for the noise that had startled her from her deep sleep.

_A car horn,_ she thought groggily. _Some idiot outside is honking their horn at_… she squinted at the alarm clock by the bed. _2:37 am. Ugh, this is unbelievable_. She flopped back down on the bed, certain that the idiot would soon continue on their way. After a few moments, when the honking persisted, she started to get angry and dragged herself out of bed.

"Great, they're going to wake up Annabelle," she huffed. Looking down at the empty bed, she wished that Will were there to handle this situation. Sarah hated confrontation with strangers. If this were just annoying her, she would have let things lie. But some jerk outside was going to wake up her daughter, had probably woken up her neighbours… and he obviously wasn't going to let up any time soon.

The young woman wrapped herself in a housecoat and made her way carefully down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen, she flipped the light switch and squinted painfully as her eyes tried to adjust to the harsh flood of light. Man, she was going to give someone a piece of her mind…

Then she stopped and _really_ listened to the noise. The honking noise was still happening… a very rhythmic noise. There was no way it could be a person doing that… it almost sounded like a car alarm. And the noise was close… very close… no wonder it had woken her. Actually, it sounded like it was coming from _their_ garage. How was that even possible… the Honda didn't have a car alarm, it had an immobilizer.

Then it hit her. She rubbed her tired eyes and let out an aggravated noise.

"Ugh, that _stupid_ truck!" she moaned. Will had gone out of town for a few days with an old college buddy, and had insisted on leaving that damned truck in their garage. Sarah hadn't understood why the truck couldn't stay on the base, but just shrugged and went with the flow. There was just no point in arguing with her husband when it came to that stupid vehicle.

Now she was angry. "Keys… where are the damned keys?" she muttered to herself as she searched the key holder hanging on the kitchen wall. So, now, she had unknowingly become that stupid jerk who was going to wake up the whole neighbourhood with the noises coming from her garage. As her pulse raced, Sarah could feel her face getting warm as she got more and more flustered. Guaranteed, one of the neighbours was going to want to have words with her for this night time disturbance… and it wasn't even her fault! Stupid, stupid truck!

Spying a set of unfamiliar keys with an odd logo on the keychain, Sarah let out a sigh of relief. There had to be a button on the key fob to disable the alarm. She opened the door to the attached garage and tore out of the house in her bare feet.

"Stop, just stop it!" she hissed at the truck, glaring as the lights flashed rhythmically. In a panic, she fumbled with the buttons on the key fob, jabbing her finger repeatedly on each one. "How the hell do I shut you off?" she asked. Was she supposed to hold a particular button for a few seconds? Hold two buttons at the same time? What? She let out a small scream of frustration and stamped her foot. "What is wrong with you, you stupid thing!" She punctuated the question with a sharp slap to the side door. She frantically pushed a few more buttons… and the truck miraculously fell silent.

Pausing, she tilted her head, wary and alert in case the truck should start to act up again. After a few moments, she relaxed her body, convinced that there wouldn't be any more problems. "Honestly, I _hate_ that truck!" she muttered as she turned around and headed back into the house. Before closing the door to the garage, Sarah glared at the big, black vehicle one last time and made a sound of disgust.

Settled back in bed, and eternally grateful that Annabelle hadn't been woken up by that damned honking, Sarah tossed and turned as she tried to calm down enough to fall back asleep. _I am going to have to talk to Will. I am sick of that truck!_ she decided. Her mind eased at the thought of a solution to a problem, Sarah started settling down.

That is, until a series of sharp, urgent knocks sounded on the front door. "You have _got_ to be kidding me!" Sarah moaned in frustration. Now what was happening?

She tried to hurry down the stairs as the loud knocking persisted to sound throughout the house. Had one of her neighbours decided to chew her out _now_? Couldn't this wait until morning? What _else_ could possibly go wrong tonight?

As she rushed to the front door, Sarah decided that the best way to handle this was to apologise profusely, ask if the conversation could be held off until morning (she would promise to bring them coffee and bagels), and then she would take the keys to the truck and drive the damned thing straight back to the army base where it belonged.

The apology she was going to make died on her lips as she opened the door to see two police officers standing there, the lights from their cruiser flashing in the background.

_Oh my god, someone called the police because of the noise!_ her blood froze in her veins.

"Ma'am, is everything alright?" This first officer was a middle-aged man, his grey eyes regarded her evenly. His partner, a younger man with light hair, was peeking past her into the house, and then turned to survey the lawn.

Finally finding her voice, Sarah said "Yes, officer. Everything's fine. I'm _so_ sorry… the alarm on the truck just started going off… I don't even know why… it's my husband's truck. Well, the army's, really, but my husband works for them and they let him use it and I don't know why the alarm started going off, and I didn't really know how to turn it off…" she trailed off as she felt her face flush again. She was blathering on like an idiot.

"Is your husband home, ma'am?" the older officer asked.

"No," she shook her head to emphasize the point.

"Are you here alone, ma'am?" The younger officer motioned to his partner that he was going to check out the garage.

Sarah glanced behind her towards the staircase. "No, my daughter is here. She's just a toddler, she's sleeping… I'm amazed she didn't wake up, actually. Look, I'm very sorry about the noise. I didn't mean to cause a problem."

"Actually, ma'am, one of your neighbours called to say that they saw someone on your property. They reported that they heard a horn honking, and when they looked out their bedroom window to see what was happening, they saw someone run across the lawn, away from the garage. Do you mind if we take a look around?" Sarah stepped back in shock, and shook her head.

"Please do," she stated weakly. The officer nodded and stepped through the doorway.

"Is there any sign that anyone has been inside the house? Is anything missing? Did you hear anything unusual?" His eyes darted around the room, paying particular attention to the windows and front door.

"No, nothing. I didn't hear anything until the truck's alarm woke me up."

"Besides you and your husband, is there anyone who would have access to your garage? Can you think of any legitimate reason why anyone would be back there?"

"Not at this time of night, no." The questions were interrupted when the younger officer appeared in the doorway.

"There's some damage on the back door of the garage… the one that leads out to the backyard. The lock is broken. Was that damaged before, ma'am?"

Sarah brought her hand to her throat and shook her head. "No, it wasn't," she said breathlessly. Her blood froze in her veins, a feeling of panic buzzed at the base of her skull. "I was outside doing some yard work earlier today and after I was done putting everything away, I closed that door and _locked_ it. Nothing was broken a few hours ago." The older officer nodded his head as his partner took notes.

"There was also a crowbar lying in the grass a few feet away from the garage. Any chance that belongs to you?" the younger officer continued.

"No, we don't own a crowbar."

The older officer took off his had and ran a hand through his greying hair. "Well, ma'am, we can't be sure, of course, but it really sounds like someone tried breaking into the garage, accidentally set off the alarm on that truck, ran out and, in their panic, dropped the crowbar. They may have only brought the crowbar to break in, but it could also have been used as a weapon in a pinch. There's no way of knowing if they only wanted to get into the garage, or if they were planning to break into the house itself through the attached door. Bottom line is; it's a lucky thing that truck's alarm went off. It scared off the burglar _and_ caught the attention of an observant neighbour."

Sarah laughed weakly, trying a lame attempt at humour. "And here I was wanting to drive that truck into a lake." The older officer grinned kindly, the younger officer glanced at the garage.

"No way, that's a _nice_ truck!" he said appreciatively. The older officer handed Sarah a card.

"Well, I understand that you're shaken up, ma'am. But, truthfully, this burglar will also be too shaken up to even think about coming back here tonight. Here's my card… call me if anything turns up missing or if you remember anything odd that happened tonight. I'd suggest getting someone out here to replace that lock on the garage. You also might want to think about investing in some motion-sensor floodlights for the yard by the fence… it's a simple, cost-effective way to scare off intruders. We're going to go next door to question your neighbour, see if they got a clear look at this guy or if they saw where he was headed."

"Alright, thank you, officers. Thank you _so_ much." Sarah clutched her housecoat tightly and looked out into the night as the police officers headed to their car. She closed the door, triple-checked to make sure it was securely locked, and let her eyes roam around the living room. Everything was in order… though she still had that disturbing sense that comes with having your privacy and security violated.

Someone had tried to break into their home… someone had intruded on their property, in their lives. That someone could have potentially hurt her baby girl or herself. The sickening feeling of dread just would not leave her. Feeling restless, she decided to go to the kitchen and make herself a cup of coffee. She needed the comforting smell, the soothing feeling of a warm cup between her hands. She set about brewing the coffee, and the familiar ritual made her feel slightly relaxed. Like a sense of normality was slowly returning to her life.

A few minutes later… she had made a brief patrol of the house while the coffee brewed, Sarah returned to the kitchen and poured some milk into a large mug. She heated the liquid in the microwave (what was the point of cold milk in hot coffee, after all), and then added the freshly brewed coffee to the mug.

After taking a few soothing sips, she made her way across the kitchen and opened the door leading to the garage. She flicked on the light, and leaned on the door way as she looked at the big, black, and mercifully silent truck. It sat there, dwarfing her little Honda, gleaming under the light in the garage. What she wanted to do was crazy… she knew it was crazy… most other people would think she was crazy for this urge she was feeling, for the emotions that were running through her. And yet… and yet… she just _had_ to act on it.

"Alright," she said, nodding her head. "Alright, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I'm sorry I smacked you. I was frustrated and worried about waking up the neighbours, and I didn't understand what was really going on. And the crazy thing is, I _really_ do feel sorry. For insulting a truck, of all things. And I really do feel grateful, again towards a truck. Which just goes to show how very weird this entire evening has been."

For the second time that evening, she walked barefoot into the garage. As she cradled her cup of coffee, she looked towards the back door, with its broken lock, and shuddered. Then she looked at the truck and patted it affectionately, right on the spot where she had smacked it earlier. "I'm sorry. I don't hate you." With that, she made her way back into the house, turned off the garage light and softly closed the door.

* * *

The truck supressed an amused snort. _Just consider yourself lucky… my first instinct was to whip out the cannons and fire a 'warning shot' at the damned slagger who broke in here. Try explaining _that_ to the neighbours!_

* * *

_Author's other note: I want an Autobot… I think I'd sleep better at night. _


	4. Chapter 4

**FAMILY LIFE**

Disclaimer: Still do not own Transformers or the Autobots. Some day… some day…

Author's warning: This chapter has some suggestive adult behaviour. Do not read if that sort of thing offends you. (Though elarielf tells me I worry too much… but I don't know if I trust her judgement. :P)

Chapter 4 - Awkward

William Lennox surveyed the disaster in their kitchen with a mild look of disbelief. He rubbed his hand over his tired eyes. "Wow, that was _some_ party. I think we should just leave the clean-up until tomorrow morning."

"You mean later this morning," his wife replied with a grin. William let out a wry chuckle. He really didn't like the idea of clean-up on a Saturday morning, but at least he knew he wouldn't be hung over for it. The buzz from the few beers he had earlier was already gone.

"Yeah. I hope you don't mind that my mom stayed the night in the guest room, but it really is a bit late for her to be heading all the way home."

Sarah Lennox sauntered up to her husband with a grin. "Not at all, she can keep Annabelle company while we clean up. Besides, I'm glad she came all the way out here for the celebration… it's not every day that her son gets promoted, _Major_ Lennox."

"Mmmm," he hummed appreciatively as the love of his life slipped her hands around his back and pressed close against him. "Too bad. Parties, beer, a beautiful woman… a guy could get used to this kinda thing." She merely grinned at him before leaning in for a slow, hungry kiss. A kiss that was a promise of many more things to come…

_Lucky, lucky me,_ he thought with a grin. Then his eyes darted towards the staircase, which lead to the second floor and to the bedrooms. His mom was known to be a deep sleeper, but he had a sudden sense of paranoia that she would suddenly come down the stairs and catch them in the middle of… well, a compromising position.

"Um…" he pulled back reluctantly. Nervously. "Kinda weird doing this with my mom in the house," he explained apologetically. His wife let out a sexy, disappointed pout.

"Fine," she said, pulling away from him. She turned away to hide a mischievous grin from him. "Then can you help me take some beer bottles out to the garage? I hate leaving them sitting here." Nodding in agreement, Lennox grabbed an armful of bottles from beside the sink. He headed towards the adjoining garage door and waited as his wife opened the door for him.

"Hmm…" he surveyed a pile boxes filled with empties. "We've got quite a collection… we should go deposit these soon, honey. People are going to think we're party animals." He set down his armful of bottles before turning back to get more.

"Don't worry, sweetie. These are the last of them," Sarah explained as she struggled with too many bottles in her arms. William gently took a few from her and helped her organise them in boxes. "Thanks." She rewarded him with another kiss.

"Well, at least we got a little bit of cleaning done before bed."

The young woman grinned at him. "And… we're no longer in the house," she said coyly. "Now, where were we…?"

_Hmph, yet another downside to being a government secret_, the black truck mused silently. _Having to lay low and wait._ When the newly appointed Major Lennox had asked Ironhide to drive him home, the plan was that the truck would immediately return to the base. Both human and Autobot alike were surprised to see a multitude of cars parked on the road by the Lennox's home. There were a number of friends and loved ones assembled on the front lawn, waiting to welcome and congratulate the young human on his promotion.

'_Surprise party'… more like an ambush. Only you're not allowed to retaliate and shoot your attackers._ With so many people around and watching the Major's every move, it was impossible for the big, black truck to slip away unnoticed. So Ironhide had been parked in the garage and left there while the party unfolded around him. The male humans looked at him admiringly, joked that they would have to ask Will to help them move something at some time… one invasive person even asked to be allowed to look under his hood! Thankfully, the solider had managed to deflect the request by pretending to get distracted by something else.

_Look under my hood, indeed!_ he huffed silently. Of all the indignities! He had also gotten a scratch on his paint when a woman carelessly let her purse scrape up against them. Why humans thought that studded, metal accents looked good on a purse was beyond him. He had been grateful when the party moved out of the garage, leaving him alone with his own thoughts.

Until now…

When Major Lennox had first entered the garage, Ironhide had thought that perhaps he would get a few moments to chat with his friend. Instead he sat there in silence as the human couple did some brief cleaning up. And then…

_What are they doing? Shouldn't they be tired?_ Instead, the alien sat in uncomfortable silence as the couple held each other close, and then pressed their lips together. He offlined his visual sensors, trying to give the couple as much privacy as he could… but there was nothing he could do to shut out the auditory portion of their encounter.

"You looked _so_ good during the party. I've always had a weakness for a man in uniform."

"Hmm, so you're only interested in me when I'm in uniform? And here I went and got changed into my civvies when I got hom. Maybe I should go put the uniform back on for you," he said with a smirk.

"Actually, I was more interested in taking it off…" There was a rustling of cloth… some article of clothing being removed. Then a moan sounded through the otherwise silent garage.

_By Primus, they're talking about starting some sort of human mating process! Lalalalalala! I am _not _hearing this. _

Humans, Ratchet had once explained, could be quite shy when it came to their mating rituals. Surely his friend was not thinking of initiating one right here, in plain sight of the Autobot? Or maybe Lennox was not thinking clearly… Ratchet had also explained that an overload of hormones and of sensory stimulus could cloud a human's thought process.

The truck's thought processor was on overload. Should he stay silent, just resign himself to being thoroughly embarrassed? Or should he try to make some sort of signal to remind his friend of his presence. No… that was no good… the wife was already worried about the truck's seemingly inexplicable quirks. Ironhide couldn't think of anything he could do that wouldn't make her more suspicious and possibly blow his cover.

_So… what do I do? Eh, frag it, I'm no good at these social problems! Gimme a problem that I can just shoot at!_ the truck thought in a near-panic. And when he felt the weight of a body pressed up against him, it took all of his control not to back up and leave the garage.

_Ahh! This is _not _happening!_

"Actually, I was more interested in taking it off…" William loved it when Sarah got that sexy smirk on her face. To prove her point, she ran her hands underneath his sweater and lifted it over his head. As she untucked his t-shirt from his pants, he ran his hands under her blouse and tried to undo her bra.

_Stupid hooks!_ He let out a growl of frustration as he struggled briefly with the undergarment. Then he lost track of his train of thought as his wonderful, wonderful wife nibbled on his neck in a way that she _knew_ would drive him nuts. An appreciative moan escaped his lips. _This is going to be good…_ he thought as Sarah pushed him up against the nearest surface.

William Lennox frowned in confusion as he felt warmth radiate through the back of his t-shirt. _Odd, why is the truck's hood warm… he's been resting in the garage all evening._ Then his eyes flew open in shock.

_Oh my god! I _totally_ forgot about him._ His mind reeled in panic. _Damnit… this is weird. Okay… what do I do?_ Suddenly, he grinned as a flash of inspiration hit him.

"Hey, honey, I've got a crazy idea…" he said with a grin as he pulled out of his wife's embrace and led her away from the Autobot. _Stay calm, this will work if you act cool… she won't suspect a thing._ Sarah just shot him an amused look.

"Oh… and what may that be?"

"Annie will probably sleep through the night… and if not, my Mom will look after her. How about we take the Honda to our old spot by the lake?" he proposed with a mischievous wink. His wife chuckled and ran her hands through his short hair.

"Mmm… promise to have me home before curfew?"

"Heh, definitely not. Maybe before sunrise…" He took her by the hand and led her towards the waiting car. "Just give me a second to grab the keys."

As he buckled up and put the key in the ignition, Sarah leaned in and kissed his neck, and then rubbed her hand on his thigh in the _most_ distracting way. "Hey, none of that while I'm driving," he admonished her with a grin.

After the couple had safely left the garage, the truck let out a huff of relief.

**The next day…**

Major William Lennox headed into the garage with a spring in his step, in spite of the slight sense of fatigue he was feeling. An impromptu party with loved ones, a private celebration with his wife afterwards and when they had woken up, they found that his mother had already gotten Annabelle dressed and had made waffles and coffee for them. To top it all off, the sun was shining brightly and his baby girl was in a great mood. Yep… life was good.

The cleanup after the party hadn't taken as long as he expected, thanks to his wonderful wife, so Lennox took the first possible opportunity to take Ironhide back to base.

_Hm… this should be interesting…_ He blushed slightly as he reflected on the events of last night… well, earlier this morning, actually. _Okay, act cool. Maybe he won't bring it up._ He slid into the driver seat.

"Sorry about that," he muttered to the truck as he backed out of the garage. "I didn't expect to have you sitting there that long, I thought I'd be able to get you back to base last night." The truck remained silent.

The human let out a frustrated sigh. _Alright, no point in avoiding the issue…_ "Look, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to forget about you like that, and I didn't want to embarrass you."

The radio clicked on. "Hm… I have no idea what you're talking about. Care to elaborate?"

William frowned in confusion. "Last night… when Sarah and I were in the garage…"

"Ah, sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. I was in deep recharge for most of the evening. I'm an old man, you know… I need my sleep." There was a hint of humour in the Autobot's gruff voice.

The human nodded in understanding. "Right… you were in recharge… gotcha."

"If anyone asks, that's my story and I'm sticking to it."

"Yep, asleep. Gotcha." They drove a few minutes in silence. Suddenly, Will thought of something that had been bothering him. "Uh… last night, when I was… erm… leaning on you… you felt kinda… overheated. Is everything okay, old man? Should we have Ratchet take a look at you when we get to base?"

Ironhide huffed in annoyance. "Why is everyone always trying to get me to med bay to have Ratchet check me out? I'm fine! Fun physiological fact for the day: overheating like that is an Autobot's involuntary response to stress, anxiety or embarrassment."

"You were _blushing_?" Lennox asked with a laugh. "Sorry, old man! Thanks for keeping your cool, though."

"Hrmph, go ahead, laugh. And thank _you_ for resisting the biological urge to mate while you were pressed against me!"

"Ouch… touché. Alright… can we both agree to never speak of this again?" he asked hopefully.

The truck's voice was suddenly mischievous. "On one condition…"

William rolled his eyes, almost dreading what that condition would be. "Fine… what?"

"From now on, you're not allowed to give me a hard time about whatever goes on between me and the Honda…"

_Author's note: Actually, nothing goes on between 'Hide and Honda. He used to try chatting with her, strictly to pass the time (he doesn't really think of her _that_ way), but she's never responded. She's a bit stuck-up that way._

_Author's other note: Why _do_ people always talk about having Ratchet check out Ironhide? Do they secretly ship the two Autobots? Heh, actually, I do not have an Ironhide/Ratchet ship, or an Ironhide/Honda ship… I just love brining up running jokes. Buahaha!_


End file.
